


Endgame

by Pinnacle75



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 2018, Canon Era, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:53:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22018933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinnacle75/pseuds/Pinnacle75
Summary: They’ve been broken up for ages but Louis has a hard time letting go. Then one day a surprise announcement brings Harry back into his life.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

A sweet rush. A sigh. Sweaty skin. 

Louis lay there, blinking up at the ceiling for a few moments, his mind blanker than it had been these past few hours. His chest heaved slowly, forcing out the breath that the body on him was trapping. Suddenly the weight lifted as the warm body rolled off and to the side. Louis heard a deep whoosh of air escape the other man before there was a rustle of tearing paper.

“Here.”

Louis glanced to his left and saw the offered roll of toilet paper. He took it wordlessly and unspooled a generous amount before he soaked up the pool that lay on his stomach. With an inward sigh he dropped his hands to his sides and let his blue eyes wander back to the ceiling. It looked slightly cigarette stained with its yellowish hue, even in the relative darkness of the room. Miniature fire suddenly lit up the dusk and then the smoke of a cigarette lured its way into Louis’ nostrils. 

“Want one?” The man offered, holding a second cigarette in a loose hold between two fingers. Louis hesitated for a moment before he took it with a mumbled “thanks.”

Harry had never let him smoke in the house, let alone in bed, but this wasn’t Harry. This wasn’t their bed and this was no longer their shared life. Louis joylessly reminded himself of this as the nicotine hit his blood stream. A tiny speck of ash floated from between his fingers down into the ruffled bed covers where it vanished. Maybe Harry had a point, Louis thought dully as he watched it, but took another deep drag none-the-less. 

The two lay there for an undecided amount of time, on Louis’ part just contemplating the evening. After feeling morose, after agonizing tears, after three bottles of beer by himself, he had decided he needed people. Needed noise, needed more drinks, needed a way to dull his aching heart. He’d gone out, choosing a club at random and had danced and drunk and smoked his heart out until he could no longer tell the difference between pain and pleasure. There had been a pill as well, a small pink one that had burned chemically on his tongue but had made him feel buzzed and energetic and… happy? No, not happy. _Glad_. Glad to forget. 

And he’d been quite glad to forget the world when someone had come up to him, smiling cheekily, dancing against him, drawing him in. The man had looked quite good on the dance floor with the lights ever-changing, the bassy noise deafening, the alcohol and the drug mingling Louis’ senses and suddenly he desperately craved the figure in front of him. Louis could barely remember the cab ride back to the man’s apartment. He’d not been out of it, but full of the other, full of desire, full of beer and with a desperately focused mind that he didn’t allow to slip back into old thoughts. 

The sex had been good, no more, no less. Maybe if he’d had more of a track record he could have enjoyed the differences more. But as it was, he’d basically only ever been with Harry. Sure there had been one or two before, but those had been erased from Louis’ mind by the years in a couple. And Harry’s way was all he knew, in all areas of his life. It was all he was used to, all he’d learned to know. All he cared to know even now.

But now, hours later, with dark night clouds drifting across the early spring sky, Louis felt empty once more. This had been his first sex in two years and equally long since Harry. It made him feel nothing but void. And stranger still, these past twenty-four hours had proven to be more detrimental than the years between them; immensely more so than the thousands of aerial and nautical miles separating them now. 

Louis dragged deeply on his cigarette, intending on smoking it down to the filter. “Sorry, what was your name again?” He asked when he felt that the thick silence and the black thoughts needed to be interrupted. He had an inkling that he had already been told at some point.

“Tom.”

Louis nodded. “Right, yeah. Of course.” He inhaled again and slowly let out the smoke with lips like a fish on land. “Do you know mine?”

“My sister’s had your faces on her bedroom wall for five years. I used to make fun of you lads a lot, you especially.” Tom didn’t look at him as he spoke but Louis felt him turn into a more relaxed position with his arms propping up his head. 

“Cheers for that,” Louis said dryly, but Tom only gave a light chuckle. 

“Hey, even big brothers can be wrong. Who knew, eh?” 

“Are you going to tell anyone?” Louis asked. Perhaps he should have been worried that Tom was. That the newspapers and social media would hear all about his sordid gay sex life through the voice of a one-night-stand. 

Tom squashed his nearly-ended cigarette on an ashtray on the end table. “Nah. I’m not out to everyone I know. And I don’t think you are either?” The question hung in the air.

“Not really,” Louis volunteered meekly. “Before today I couldn’t.”

Tom rolled onto his side to look at him. “What happened today to change it?”

Louis glanced at him and felt something well up inside him, something that began in the pit of his stomach and quickly rose, threatening to break out. “I actually really need to get going, where can I put-?” He motioned to the smoked down stick between his fingers and got out of the bed as soon as Tom relieved him of it. He quickly went on to scavenge his clothes off the floor, searching for his black pair of boxers as he gathered his pants and sweatshirt off a pair of boots standing next to the bed. 

“You can stay and get some sleep if you want,” Tom offered, but Louis shook his head without giving the offer a second’s thought. 

“My place isn’t too far,” he lied, stuffing his feet into his white trainers. “and I have some stuff to do later. I should really get home.” Two lies in an instant. Well, he didn’t really care. He slipped his sweatshirt on as quickly as he could, checking his pockets for his phone and wallet and, confirming they were in place, turned to Tom, then promptly couldn’t think of what to say. 

Tom saved him. He’d gotten up from the bed too but hadn’t bothered with clothes. He stood there naked, making Louis feel a little awkward to once again remember what they had done. Tom smiled. “What now?”

Louis hesitated, now unsure of what to say. He had no intention of seeing Tom again after this night, but felt it would be rude to show it straight away. After a moment he handed Tom his phone. “Put your number in.” He watched as the other man typed in a combination of numbers before handing the phone back over. “Thanks,” Louis mumbled and put it back in his pocket. “I’ll see you.” He turned to leave the tiny flat, but Tom grabbed his wrist in a gentle hold, then pulled him to meet his lips. The kiss would have been quite sweet if Louis had kissed him back. 

“See you, Louis.”

Well out on the street, Louis took a deep breath of cool air, inhaling it like his life at this very moment depended on him getting as much as possible of the London breeze into his lungs. His eyes were already tearing, his body suddenly weak. He felt relieved to be alone now. How _dumb_ had he been? How stupid was he to get fucked by some random guy he met in a club. Despite his assurances, Louis wasn’t at all convinced that Tom wouldn’t go blabbing to the press, or at the very least, twitter. And despite his indifference a few minutes before, he was starting to worry now. What if this got out? What if it reached Harry?

And then, he thought, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad? Maybe that would hurt Harry as much as Harry had hurt him. And then almost immediately, Louis felt sickened by himself. What was wrong with him? Was he never going to grow out of blaming everyone else for self-made destruction? It wasn’t Harry’s fault that Louis still felt the same as he did. That was all on him.

The walk back to his house, guided by Google maps, took him nearly an hour in the almost deserted Sunday morning. Light was sneaking onto the dark horizon, taking over more and more and pushing the cloud-cover elsewhere. He kept up a determined count of the stone bricks on the pavement the entire way home, so as to not think about the wrong turns he had taken in life to lead him to this very moment. 

Well at home he pulled off all of his clothes, threw everything into the laundry basket and took a steaming hot shower, washing all the evidence of his latest mistake down the drain. He wouldn’t let himself get into bed with Harry with traces of someone else on him. 

The bed was empty, as always, the sheets cold in the lonely house. He made himself comfortable between the covers, ignoring the raised hair on his body as he tried to fight off the chill. Then he settled into what had been his routine for months. His fingers immediately opened his phone and went into his gallery and to pictures of Harry, and he stared and stared until his eyes filled with tears that completely blurred his vision. How could things have gone so wrong for them? His blurry eyes traveled over every tiny area of Harry’s face on one photo. How he wanted him to be real, to be with him once again. But that was impossible now. 

As if he wanted it, as if the pain he knew would come was something he desired, he opened the news articles with the screaming headlines he had read earlier that day, all tabs opened as he had left them. He’d already seen all of them, had read them over and over in the hopes that the words would turn into something else, something a little less gut-wrenching, less heart-breaking, less world-ending.

_‘Harry Styles engaged to Hollywood Hunk!’_   
_‘1D’s Harry Styles to marry a man!’_   
_‘Harry Styles goes in Another Direction!’_

And worse yet. Light years worse, _infinitely worse_ , Harry’s own twitter shortly and concisely confirming the news of his engagement. 

Louis’ warm eyes seemed to be out of tears. He pulled up Harry’s photo on the screen once more and put it, screen down, on his chest. It was over, he knew that now, but strangely, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit of hope still struggling its way to his heart, just falling asleep alongside him. 


	2. Chapter 2

The day was sunny and nearly warm, with trees starting to sprout green buds which from far away diluted the view of brown twigs. Louis’ breath was heaving with his running steps, one foot continually in the air. He felt the pavement under his feet as if every step down was intending to rattle him, but he refused to fall into his muddled thoughts and kept his focus on the way in front. Heavy rock music played in his ears, the buds in constant danger of falling out. He’d been out for a good hour hour already, running and stopping but never for long. His head needed clearing and the best way for that was some good old proper exhaustion. He’d woken up hungover and miserable around noon and had lounged around the house with no clear goal for the day. He’d eventually needed some air.

_I really need to stop smoking_ , he thought as he once again found himself stopping because his lungs ached, then promptly pushed it away as the new thought of nicotine penetrated his mind. He sat down on a nearby bench, breathing heavily as he patted himself down but realised quickly that he’d left everything but his phone and keys at home. Yup. Another letdown. He sighed and leaned his elbows on his knees, rubbing his eyes. 

He’d had his fair share of shitty days in his life but yesterday had really been up there with the elite. Finding out his ex-boyfriend since his teens was getting married and then he himself having sex with someone else for the first time was in a whole other league of crap. 

A sudden rush of anger gave him adrenaline and he quickly got off the bench, rushed forward and stumbled right in the middle of the sprint. He only caught himself at the last minute before his face would hit the pavement. “Fuck!” He cursed loudly, drawing startled looks from a few fellow park-visitors whom he ignored. He looked down. Great. His fucking shoelace had come loose. Was there no end to this goddamn agony? As he bent down to re-tie it, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. After firmly tightening the white string and checking that the other was properly tied as well, he drew to the side of the busy park path. Some shade from the tree overhead cast his hand into relative shadow as he pulled out his phone to check the message. 

Louis turned ice-cold as he saw the name of the sender. The noise left his surroundings. He couldn’t remember where he was or indeed, _who_ , he was, because at that very moment, he couldn’t focus on anything but the words on the small screen. 

‘Hey Lou,  
I’m sorry it’s been  
such a long time,   
but I really need   
to talk to you.   
Skype later?  
H’

:-:-:-:

Louis was incessantly chewing the nails of his left hand while his foot patted an irregular beat against the carpet. His computer sat on the desk before him. _It’s not real_ , he told himself over and over, hoping to stave off the hope that was building inside him, because surely this _couldn’t_ be real. It had to be a joke, a sick one, from someone who had clearly stolen Harry’s phone and used words that sounded just like him. Because why would Harry contact him now, two years after they had parted ways? Deep down Louis knew why, but he wouldn’t think about it. Not now. He just wanted to see him again, because that would replace the last memory he had of Harry’s face. It was not one Louis wanted to remember. 

It had started like a slight argument, one of which they’d been having more and more regularly in the last few months. Louis couldn’t remember the start of this particular one anymore, but after a bit of back and forth, suddenly the conversation had turned nasty with Harry spewing out accusations of things that Louis did or didn’t do. How he never cleaned, how he never cooked or indeed cleaned up after, his smoking, his drinking, how he didn’t seem to _care anymore_. Louis had fired back, perhaps insensitively, but Harry had refused to be cowed. The argument still rang in Louis’s ears, even years later. He’d never forget the expression on Harry’s face, the anger, the disappointment, the deep fatigue in his eyes. And just like that Harry had decided he couldn’t do it anymore. They were over in the blink of an eye, really before Louis had even realised that’s where they’d been heading. Harry had left that very night. 

The melody ringing out from his computer jolted him back to the present. He blinked a few times, then lowered the nail-bitten hand and after taking a deep breath, pressed accept on the call.

It was obvious in the few seconds that Harry appeared on screen that the screen belonging to him was still dark because he looked both neutral and vulnerable for just a few moments. Louis greedily drank in Harry’s face, quickly letting his eyes slide over the fine features in fear that something would go wrong with the connection or that Harry would disappear in some way. He saw the warm and kind eyes, slightly messy brown hair, pink lips starting to turn up at the corners. He was so beautiful.

It was just _Harry_. 

Louis was immediately and desperately helpless. His own face broke into a huge smile that crinkled his eyes. 

“There it is,” Harry said in his deep voice, even his tone carrying the warmth of his smile. “I’ve missed seeing that.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Louis replied, because he knew that was what Harry meant.

Harry’s face wore a gentle smile. “How have you been?”

Not great, Louis thought as an immediate response, but in this moment he was feeling utter joy that for the first time in two years, it wasn’t a video or a photo he was reacting to, but Harry Styles live in the goddamn flesh and for Louis’ eyes only. In this moment it was just them. “I’ve been alright,” he lied easily. “And you?”

“Up and down,” Harry shrugged. “I moved to LA, which was good for me,” he said, though to Louis the words rang a little false but he didn’t comment. “The sun helps when I’m feeling down.”

Louis was dying to ask what was _up_ , what was _down_ , but he couldn’t do that. They couldn’t share like that anymore. He decided to go lighter instead. “What, like dreary rainy London is depressing?” Louis smirked and watched Harry’s smile reappear. “What’s your house like?” He asked, too late realising that the question might not have been the best. Surely he would hear things he wouldn’t want. 

“It’s nice, quite big,” Harry replied comfortably. “Want the tour?” Before waiting for Louis’ reply, Harry swiftly picked up his laptop and set off, a narrow hallway and a white marble kitchen shaking past on the screen. 

Louis felt his face wear a permanent smile as Harry showed him around, explaining rooms and features of the house. It did look quite nice, open and spacious and elegantly decorated with bits and pieces showcasing Harry’s unique personal taste. Louis recognised a painting in what looked like a guest room that had once hung in their joint living room. It made his smile falter a little but it reappeared as soon as Harry set him down again where they had started and his face filled the screen. 

“Well, thanks for the tour. It looks like you’re doing well for yourself as usual.”

“I try,” Harry smiled. “So, tell me what’s new with you.”

_I cry myself to sleep every night, I drink too much and I nearly had a break-down earlier over a shoelace_. “Oh, you know, it’s all the same. All good, s’all great.” It sounded ingenuine but it was surely preferable over the truth. 

Harry nodded to Louis’ words but Louis could tell he didn’t think much of them. A silence intruded. 

“Congrats on your album. I really like it,” Louis said, mostly to fill out the impending awkwardness. “Must have been nice recording it.”

“Cheers,” Harry replied quickly, seeming eager to have something neutral to discuss. “Yeah it was nice recording it but I thought writing it was a bit difficult. It’s weird knowing I will be the only one singing everything.”

Louis nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Do you like it though?”

“Doing it alone?” Harry queried. “Yes. Yes and no. It’s obviously different having all the focus on you, to have this be your thing and your thing alone. Some things I wish someone would choose for me.” 

_Some things I wish I could choose for you too_ , Louis thought. 

“What about you? Any new ones?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m writing as well,” Louis lied easily, thinking back to the few songs he had started, and not touched, in months now. “I’m a bit slow though.”

Harry shrugged. “That’s okay, it’s not a competition.” He fell quiet again, this time looking uncomfortable. It was clear that he was working up to something. Louis couldn’t have interrupted even if he’d wanted to. His eyes were glued to Harry’s uncomfortable expression. “Look… I shouldn’t have waited two years to contact you. I’m sorry for that. And I’m sorry about the last time too. I wasn’t great, was I?” The question was rhetoric.

Louis’ heart dipped a little as he was once again reminded of said last time. “Neither of us were. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I keep thinking about it,” Harry confessed, running a hand through his hair. “And I keep analysing everything that lead up to it and what I was thinking and feeling at the time, and how I ended up here…” He trailed off, and Louis sensed danger looming. He decided to quickly intervene. 

“I miss talking to you,” He confessed. “You’ve been my best friend for so long and losing that part of it was really bad for me.”

Harry looked pained. One corner of his mouth twitched downward. “It was for me too, trust me. I want to fix it. I want us to be able to talk again.”

“Same,” Louis mumbled and saw Harry take a deep breath. He looked nervous and Louis had an inkling of what was coming. He braced himself.

“Which brings me to the reason I wanted to talk to you now…” A pause. Harry opened his mouth to continue, but no words come out. He tried once more with the same results before he tightly shut his eyes, then spoke. “I don’t know if you’ve heard-”

Louis heard a sudden noise on Harry’s end, like a short call. Harry stopped talking mid-sentence and turned his head on the screen. “Yeah?” He called, looking annoyed, then waited a few moments as the voice said something unintelligible once more. Harry sighed, then grunted an affirmation at the voice before turning his face back to the screen. He looked simultaneously relieved and irritated. “Look, Louis, I’m sorry but I’ve got to go, but… I’ll be in London next weekend. Could we meet for dinner, whenever you’re able? I can come over if you want.”

Louis was deeply aware of his face and was determined not to show the pain the words were causing. Come over? To what had once been a shared house, a shared life, to what was now a solitary one? No. No, that wouldn’t work. Louis couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him. He knew he looked tired as he spoke because Harry suddenly looked concerned. “No, I’ll make a reservation somewhere. Somewhere quiet.”

“Thank you,” Harry murmured. “Text me the details and I’ll be there.”

“It was good seeing you,” Louis mumbled, meaning it with his whole heart. “I’ve really missed you.”

Harry bit his lip. “I’ll see you soon, Lou. Take care of yourself.” 

And Harry rang off, leaving Louis contemplative in the quiet.


	3. Chapter 3

Louis was in the middle of a car-racing game the next day when his phone buzzed on the table beside him. He didn’t check it straight away, but bit his lip as he swerved a difficult corner, his red sports car grazing the edge of the course as he turned and continued up a hill. He’d been determined to concentrate on the game and nothing else, and was absolutely refusing to let his thoughts stray to a particularly curly-haired someone. It wasn’t until he’d passed the finish line that he thumbed open his phone and frowned down at the screen in surprise. A message. From _Zayn_. 

‘Hey Lou. Sorry for   
the long silence.   
Can we meet?’

Louis shook his head to himself in wonder. Two old but hardly forgotten friends in two days. What the hell was going on?

He slowly blinked in an effort to clear his mind enough to come up with a reply. His fingers slowly moved over the keys, going back a few times to replace a word or two, then promptly sent the short reply before he could change his mind. 

‘Sure, you can come  
over if you want.   
Same address  
as before.’

Louis’ heart was suddenly pounding a little too fast. He couldn’t even remember the last time the two had talked, excluding a solitary dm over the course of the past few years. It felt strange to once again have Zayn’s name as his most recent text message, and _Harry_ right beneath it. What year was this again?

He was still staring in slight wonder at the names, game quite forgotten now, when his phone buzzed and startled him slightly. Opening the message he felt a peculiar sensation overwhelm him. 

‘Is today okay? I can   
be there at any time.’

Louis smiled a bit as he sent back an affirmative, then hastily looked around the messy room. He hesitated, then quickly began to collect empty cups and a plate that had served him pizza two days ago. A few stray bottles also found their way into the rubbish bin. Another buzz of his pocket. 

‘Gimme 30.’

:-:-:-:-:

Almost precisely a half hour later, Louis heard the doorbell cut through the silent house with the shrill of a fire alarm. He took a deep breath as he made his way to the door and opened it to find Zayn as predicted. The handsome man before him had definitely matured. Cheekbones were more defined, shoulders slightly wider, but the warm brown eyes and small smile were quite the same Louis had grown up with. 

“You remembered the gate code then?” He said in lieu of hello, playing for time. His mind was completely blank. 

“’Course,” Zayn shrugged and then said nothing. He seemed not to know what to say either. 

Louis was just going to take a step back to wordlessly let him in but Zayn was faster and managed to scoop Louis into a one-armed embrace. The hug was brief but managed to calm Louis’ heartbeat with at least a thump or two.

“Hi,” Louis said finally, a smile inevitably breaking out on his face. 

“Hi,” said Zayn, smiling too. 

“Come in.” Louis let Zayn pass him into the small hallway that quickly turned into the kitchen. “Do you want a cup of tea? Or coffee?” 

“Tea would be nice,” Zayn said and sat down on one of the high stools by the kitchen island. “Thanks for having time for me today.”

“I wasn’t doing anything,” Louis admitted as he filled the kettle and put it to heat up. “Just been moping around.” He didn’t mean to say it but it slipped out before he could stop it. He quickly turned around to the cabinet where he kept his cups, taking two out and making sure to hide his face from the other man. 

“Yeah, gotcha.”

Louis waited for more but was grateful for the small silence as he prepared two teabags of Yorkshire Tea, the kettle just boiling. “Let’s go to the living room.”

Zayn followed him in silence as they headed over to the spacious room and Louis set the hot cups down onto the recently cleaned coffee table. 

“It’s… nice,” Zayn said a little awkwardly, his eyes sliding over the empty white walls. 

“All the art was Harry’s,” Louis explained neutrally and sat down on the grey sofa. The was another silence as Zayn sat down too, picking up his cup of tea and gingerly tasting it. 

Louis couldn’t hold in the question anymore. “Why did you want to see me… now?” 

Zayn hesitated, then put his cup back on the table and took a few moments before he spoke. He linked his fingers together and seemed to think hard about his response. "I came because I heard about Harry and..." He trailed off, suddenly looking unsure if to pose a question or not.

Louis heart twinged. He bit his lip and just gave a nod, cradling the cup of tea in both hands. It was nearly scorching his fingers but he still kept them there.

"How did you hear about it?" Zayn asked, evidently deciding on a question. “Did you already know? Did he tell you?"

"No. Before yesterday we hadn't spoken in two years," Louis said softly, and motioned to his phone, eyeing Zayn pointedly. "It was from this."

Zayn closed his eyes tightly for a moment and grimaced. "Fuck. That sucks. I didn’t even know you were broken up. I thought you two would be lifelong.”

Louis said nothing. Couldn’t, because he had thought that too.

"So, how are you? I guess that's what I came to see."

Louis let out a joyless laugh. "Deeply depressed, to be quite fucking honest with you." The short-lived smile became a sigh that threatened tears. 

“I’ve been there,” Zayn said, voice full of compassion. “Can I do something for you?”

“No,” Louis sighed. "There’s nothing anyone can do for me. I have nothing anymore. I have an empty house that I used to share with the love of my fucking life who's now marrying someone else. Why am I still here?” He set his cup back on the table and fell back against the couch. Hopelessness was once again invading him. 

“I don’t know,” Zayn sighed and took a sip of tea. “But did you say you talked yesterday? What did he want?”

“He never really got to the point,” Louis shrugged. ”I guess he wants to tell me he’s getting married,” he sighed dejectedly. “We’re going to meet for dinner next weekend."

“Wow. Are you nervous?”

“Yeah, I mean I haven’t seen him in two years. The argument was the last time,” Louis said morosely. “And a week after that he sent people to pick up his stuff. Didn’t even come himself.” 

Zayn stared at him intently for a moment, then made a face. “Do you have anything stronger than this?” He motioned to the tea. “I think we could both need it.”

“Fridge,” Louis replied simply, fingers playing with the edge of a pillow and waited for Zayn who went to the kitchen. A minute later he was handed a green bottle of beer. 

Zayn sat back down and took a long drag of his own bottle, he too leaning back against the couch. “What happened with you two?” 

Louis could feel Zayn staring at him, but he let his own eyes drop to the carpet and took another sip of beer. “I was in a bad place there for a while. I wasn’t a nice person to be around and I behaved badly. We got into arguments and one thing led to another and I guess he just couldn’t take it, _me_ , anymore.” The words tasted sour in his mouth as he relived the memories that had now gone bad. He felt embarrassed to admit his own faults but they were his and he knew he had to own up to them. He glanced at the other man without knowing what he’d see on the face but Zayn didn’t look judgemental at all.

“We all get in bad places every now and then,” he sighed and shrugged. “You’d think he’d know that.”

Louis shook his head. “No, it wasn’t his fault,” he said softly. “I don’t blame him for anything. It was me. I was going through all this shit and he was just getting more and more popular. It felt like everyone was just falling in love with him and I was getting jealous. He was mine first, but it began to feel like I was losing him. And instead of loving him like I should have I turned bitter.” Saying the words out loud turned his stomach into knots, but he couldn’t take the words back.

“Look,” Zayn said after a minute and leaned his elbows on his knees. “I’m not a relationship expert but I do know it takes two people to make one work. Solely blaming yourself and painting Harry as a saint probably isn’t the way to go.”

Louis shrugged but didn’t want to argue. Zayn wouldn’t understand.

Silence intruded once more. It was thick with memories for Louis, filled with flashing images of Harry that suddenly mixed with thoughts of the band. “What _happened_ , Zayn?” He said abruptly, the words spilling like he’d held them for a long time. “Why did you leave? Why didn’t you talk to us before, to _me_?”

Zayn swallowed before sighing. “Can I go get another beer?” He waved his empty bottle and set it on the table. Louis thought he might have been playing for time but he didn’t voice his thoughts, just requested to be brought one too. 

With two bottles of liquid courage in each person’s hand, Zayn slowly began to open up. He talked about his depression and fear and how he sometimes cried himself to sleep at night because he was terrified of what the day after would bring. How it had been too much, too overwhelming, and too impossible to stick around.

“I was different from you four pasty white boys, but I had to pretend I wasn’t.” Zayn’s mouth turned into a sad smile and Louis matched it. It felt both nice and painful that Zayn was finally opening up to him, years later. He’d stopped thinking they would ever talk again, but hearing him now made guilt swell up inside him. How had he not known?

“Shit,” Louis mumbled and ran a hand through his hair. “I never realised you were feeling like that. I’m sorry for being such a shit friend.”

But Zayn made a face and shook his head. He looked serious. “No, it wasn’t your fault. I mean, at first I did feel like you were part of it, but it’s only after that I’ve realised that you had so much shit of your own to go through. I mean, you and Harry,” he sighed and made a face. “It can’t have been easy for you.”

Louis thought of all the threats, of all the contracts and attempts to closet them and just shook his head. He’d been scared back then, proper scared that he’d mess up or say something that would give them away. He still, to this day, wouldn’t want to think of the consequences that they’d been told over and over would happen.

“I still should have been a better friend,” Louis decided, shaking off the memories and coming back to the present. “I’m sorry.” He made sure his eyes met Zayn’s as he spoke. “But I have to admit, some of the things you said after you quit really hurt,” Louis mumbled.

“I know.” Zayn sighed and ran a hand through his hair, dark eyes flickering around the now shadowed room. “I was upset there for a while. I… I said some things I shouldn’t have. I honestly didn’t mean most of it. I was just angry.”

Louis looked at him for a long moment, then let his lips break into a smile. “I’m glad you came to see me today.”

Zayn smiled too. “Thanks for wanting to talk to me. I hope you and I can start over. I always did miss you.”

Despite the Harry-shaped misery still keeping its claws firmly dug into him, Louis felt genuine happiness streak through him for the first time in a long time. He shook his head and smiled. “Let’s not start over. How about we start from the last good time we had.” He sucked on his lip, thinking. “Do you remember Spain? That time with the hat and lobster?”

Zayn barked out a laugh, and immediately went into repeating the story. 

Old memories kept them busy until the sky darkened and their buzzed blood wanted more. They headed down to the pub on the corner where they played pool and darts and drank and sang. Louis felt joy for the first time in months as he shouted along with Zayn to a song that was playing loudly on the stereo. They were recognised too, first by a group of women at a window table, then by more and more and they took pictures and talked, about the good, the bad, the sad and the hilarious. 


	4. Chapter 4

The restaurant was high class.

It was situated in a turn of the century building in an expensive part of London, where Bentleys and Lamborghinis stood casually parked on the street. Louis had never quite gotten used to the feeling of being in places like this, and he usually wasn’t, but he had wanted tonight to be different. This evening was after all for a very special occasion. 

He was early though and was for that reason feeling worse with every passing second. His whole body felt on edge, from the curve of his lips to the tips of his toes as he felt them tensing in his shiny black leather shoes. He’d been very particular earlier that evening when picking out his clothes, deciding to go simple but classy with a white button down shirt and black trousers. All high end stuff which he knew Harry liked. Louis wanted to show him he’d made an effort.

Louis thought Harry would like the restaurant too in its soft darkness, each table circled with elegant curtains intended to give the customers privacy. The noise was nicely muted too to just background, even though the restaurant had clearly been full when Louis had entered. All he could see now were the red folds of drapes and quickly disappearing shapes beyond the small gap in the opening.   
  
He crossed his leg over the other, then uncrossed it. His eyes were pasted to the gap in the curtain as he waited for the familiar form to come inside. He was so nervous he thought he could quite possibly throw up, or at least throw down a shot of something in order to calm his nerves, but he continued to slowly spin his glass of mineral water around and didn’t call for a waiter to fulfil his desire. He wanted to be completely sober when he met Harry again and had therefore only ordered a bottle of water, of which he’d already downed half. 

Louis took a deep anxious breath and had just let it out when there was a rustle of red as the shape of Harry suddenly appeared. A mix of emotions, joy and sadness, pain and elation. Louis felt everything at that very moment. A fraction of a second later he had gotten up and walked the few steps it took until he was swept up into an embrace so familiar it _hurt_. The warmth, the scent, the muscular body. It was all _Harry_. Louis’ face was pressed against Harry’s neck and he surreptitiously inhaled the mix of cologne and indefinable natural fragrance that made up Harry. He noticed the chain of the familiar gold cross necklace digging into his chin as Harry held him close in a grip that Louis wouldn’t mind being stuck in forever. 

Neither had yet spoken. Many moments passed before Louis felt Harry’s hold loosen. “Louis,” he murmured and Louis wanted him to just repeat his name over and over. But he had to let go.

“Hi, Harry.” His smile couldn’t be dimmed just now that they stood there face to face, just watching each other. Harry was smiling too, just a gentle curving of lips that had Louis’ full attention. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he said. “I forgot how beautiful you are.” He should probably have cringed at his own admittance but he didn’t, and he laughed when Harry did.

“Cheers,” Harry said, giving Louis’ shoulder a squeeze. “You’re not so bad yourself you know.”

Louis gave a short laugh. “Thanks.” He half-turned towards the table. “Do you want to sit down?”

Harry took the proffered seat as Louis reclaimed the chair opposite. A waiter immediately appeared with menus and to take their drinks order. Louis watched Harry under his fringe, taking in his appearance and his mannerisms and it all felt bittersweet. They’d been on so many covert dates in their lives yet this was so different. Mainly because it wasn’t one. 

“I’ll have the same,” Louis decided as he handed the menu back to the waiter, copying Harry even thought he wasn’t exactly sure what he’d ordered. The man disappeared and Harry and Louis were left alone again. “So what are you doing in London?” It felt like a nice starting topic.

Harry shrugged. “Nothing specific really. I mean, the tour is starting soon so I thought it could be nice to be here for a bit, maybe go see mum…” He trailed off for a second. “Mostly I came for you.”

“For me?” Louis asked, unsure of what that meant. 

“So I could talk to you,” Harry clarified. 

“Oh.” Louis grasped his glass of water and took a sip, then set it down and slowly spun it around. A waiter came in with a bottle of red wine and proceeded to pour them a glass each. 

Harry politely waited until the waiter had left. “I don’t want to beat around the bush any longer.” His voice was steady but the fingers grasping the stem of the wine glass gave him away. They held a slight tremble. “Did you hear my news?”

Louis felt a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach. He could only nod. “You’re getting married.”

Harry nodded too. He was unsmiling. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself. It leaked before I could. He says he didn’t do it but I actually think it might have been Will who did it,” Harry said frowning, then caught himself. “Will, my b- fiancé.”

A stab to Louis’ chest. Fiancé. He felt like breaking into tears right there but he held his ground, kept his eyes focused and unblurred. 

“So who is this guy? How did you meet?” He both wanted to know and at the same time _dreaded_ any information he was about to receive.

“His name is Will. He’s American. Realtor. We met in LA at the gym, we go to the same one.” Harry’s eyes seemed determined not to meet Louis’ as he spoke. 

“When?”

“About a year and a half ago.”

“How did he propose?”

Harry took a moment before he replied, his green eyes searching Louis’s face. Louis didn’t know what he was expecting to find there but he hoped he kept his expression neutral even though his brain was screaming. “He did it at a restaurant,” he said shortly, his eyes never leaving Louis’.

Louis gave a derisive chuckle. “Bet you hated that it was in public.”

“At least he asked me,” Harry deadpanned. 

Ouch. Louis quickly dropped his gaze to the table. He heard Harry let out a gentle sigh and knew that he regretted his last words. They’d of course talked about marriage but they’d never gotten far enough to actually do it. Louis couldn’t say why he’d never asked Harry. He supposed he had envisaged them being free sometime in the future and that that future held him down on one knee with a ring in his hands. But it wasn’t to be now. 

A tattooed hand slid over the table towards him, untangling the loose hold Louis’ had on his wine glass and intertwined them with Harry's instead. Hurt mingled with a sweeter sort of pain in Louis’ heart. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t come to fight,” Harry said. 

“Do you still love me?” Louis asked suddenly.

“Of course.” Harry looked surprised by the question.

“But in what way?”

Harry opened his mouth, his eyes dropping down, but he didn’t speak.

“Never mind,” Louis sighed. “I don’t want to know.” He gently slid his fingers away from Harry’s and folded them in his lap, eyes on them because he didn’t want to see the pity in Harry’s. Just then there was a rustle of a curtain as the waiter arrived with their food. Two steaming plates of steak and potatoes. It looked fancy but Louis had never felt less hungry. He poked at the food with his fork as the waiter left. 

“I’m happy, you know,” Harry said after a minute, voice soft. 

And just like that, Louis was the bad guy again. He felt guilty for his own pain when he should be happy for Harry. And yet, he needed to say what was on his mind because he thought he would shrivel up and die otherwise. “I always thought we would have time you know… to get back to each other again,” he admitted. “I never thought we would be over forever. I thought _I_ would be the one marrying you.”

Harry sighed. It felt annoyed as it cut the silence. “What do you want me to say, Lou? It’s not like I can just forget about our last months together. You seemed to stop caring about me, about us, and everything else. I know you were going through all that awful stuff but it wasn’t fair of you to treat me like you did.”

“I know I fucked up,” Louis said quickly. “Trust me, I live with that knowledge every day.”

Harry said nothing. He just looked at Louis for another moment, features indecipherable, before he picked up his fork and knife. 

“When is the wedding?” Louis asked quietly. 

“In July.”

“July?” Louis gaped. “But that's… soon.”

“It’s still a couple of months away.”

“I can’t believe it,” Louis murmured, sinking back in his chair. “I can’t believe you’re getting married.” He ran a hand through his hair and was surprised to feel agitated. “Maybe it would be less weird if it was some else, someone who makes sense. But this guy makes no sense whatsoever”. 

Harry barely blinked. “He makes me laugh.”

“I used to make you laugh,” Louis reminisced, sad now. His mood seemed to switch with each passing second. 

“You still do.”

Louis stared across the table, into the green eyes he’d known for so long yet hadn’t met in ages. They seemed tired but were intently staring back into his. "You know, I loved you from the moment I met you," he revealed softly and Harry cracked a tiny smile.

"Yeah, you did," Harry agreed, half jokingly. The smile fell away. "And I you."

Louis took a sip of wine. What could he say? He just watched Harry.

Harry set his knife and fork down, his dish half-finished while Louis’ remained mostly untouched. He too sipped his wine, then looked straight at Louis. His eyes were determined. “I wanted to ask you if you could be my best man.”

Louis blinked. The dim noise around them seemed to die down completely as the words slowly chugged in his head. He didn’t understand them at first. “What?” He managed to croak.

Harry just stared at him, eyes flickering right and left, taking in Louis’ face and reaction. “I wa-”

“How can you ask me this?” Louis breathed with sudden anger, the shock freezing his features into place for a moment. ”How can you be this cruel?” His eyes very suddenly burned with tears. He couldn't believe this was happening.

Harry’s mouth fell open. “What? No! I didn’t me-” But he didn’t seem to know what to say, and seemed genuinely shocked by the reaction. 

Louis pushed back his chair and stood up hastily. His heart was beating fast, his breathing becoming ragged as the tears swelled. He was intending to make a fast exit. He couldn’t stand another second there, knowing he would inevitably break down in front of Harry if he didn’t leave now. But before he could even turn and walk away, Harry had stood up too and his soft grip had circled his wrist. The hand held him softly but firmly and Louis had no choice but to turn to him. 

“Please,” Harry begged through a breath. His eyes too were shiny now.

Louis was already shaking his head, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks. "Why are you doing this? Why do you want me to be there?"

Harry’s eyes own tears spilled in an instant. "Because I need you there. I know I’m being selfish but…” His voice broke. “I can’t imagine doing it without you. I _can’t_ do it without you.”

“So _don’t_!” Louis argued immediately, his heart beating slightly faster. “Don’t marry him!” He bit back the words that would have followed. _Marry me_. 

But Harry was shaking his head, looking tired. “Please, Louis…”

"Harry," Louis began slowly, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He wiped his cheeks and his eyes seem to clear a little along with his thoughts. "You know I'd give you the world but... there's not a single part of me that could do this. Please don't make me." His voice was pleading. He took a deep breath and already knew by the time it ended that he wouldn’t be able to keep the words in any longer. “You’re _the love of my life_. I am _never_ going to get over you.” He sucked in his lip as he concentrated on keeping his eyes from welling up again. "How am I supposed to help you marry someone else?" His voice came out weak. He stared helpless up at the other man, into eyes that were as green and bright as the first time they met. 

Harry stared back into his blue ones, seemingly as lost for words as Louis was now that everything was out in the open. “I can’t do it,” Louis stated, angling his wrist out of Harry’s grip. He turned around and quickly escaped, pushing through red velvet curtains and through the pathway to the exit. He slid his wallet out of his pocket and quickly pulled out a few notes, paying a passing waiter for the meals. He knew he had over payed but he didn’t stick around for change. He was anxious to get out of there because he did not want Harry following him. He didn’t want to see him now. 

The relief of being out on the chilly street was instantaneous as he saw the line of taxis parked up front. He didn’t check to see if Harry had followed him out, just hopped into the first black cab and gave the driver an address that would surprise him later. He felt empty the whole way there, like his insides had been hollowed out by Harry’s words. He wish he could have gone back in time, back to several weeks ago when he was still blissfully unaware that Harry was even in a relationship. He desperately didn’t want to remember this night.

The ride took a bit of time and the unfamiliar scenery outside had him doubting his choice, but he still paid and got out at the address he had given. He stared up at the tall tenement-building with a bit of doubt, but headed for the entrance before he could think much more about it. Well inside, he pursed his lips as he pressed the button for the lift. It had been on the fifth floor, hadn’t it? 

And, a few floors up, in front of the brown wooden door, he knocked and didn’t have to wait long for it to open. 

“Louis?” Tom sounded surprised to see him. He was only dressed in boxers. Blue. “This is a surprise.”

“Do you mind?”

Tom shook his head, a grin forming on his face. “What do you want?” 

Louis took a brave step forward. “If you can help me forget then you can have me tonight if you want.” 

Tom only hesitated for a second, then grabbed Louis’ shirt and pulled him inside. The last thing Louis actively thought before losing himself in sensations was how Tom didn’t remind him of Harry at all. 


End file.
